


Unfinished Business

by clgfanfic



Category: Shades of LA, War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set with the episode "Unto Us a Child is Born."</p><p>Paul and Harrison get some help from an unlikely source</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfinished Business

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #9 under the pen name Gillian Holt and Llyr Chaves.

_"And ghosts told you about the aliens?"_

 

          The life of a Los Angeles detective is often tedious, but it's seldom dull – at least when you're Michael Burton, hotshot metro detective and paperwork escape artist extraordinaire.

          But Michael is more than a good cop with a flare for finding someone else to write up his reports.  Michael is special.  All the shades in Limbo think so, and I should know, I'm one of them.

          You see, it all started when Michael died.  He traveled here to Limbo and met some of the shades stuck here because they have unfinished business back in their lives.  Michael was lucky, though, he was yanked back to the land of the living, and he's still there.

          But you can't ever completely shake a trip to Limbo, and it wasn't long before some of the shades discovered that Michael could see them.  Not only can he see them, he can hear, touch, and talk to us…  And, he's willing to help us solve our unfinished business.  Now that's special.

          Of course, Michael likes it when the unfinished business involves a crime so he can get a little credit toward his sergeant's stripes, but it doesn't always work out that way, and he's gotten real good about taking that in stride.

          So, see what I mean when I say Michael Burton's a nice guy?  I mean, how many people do you know who'd spend their spare time helping out dead people?

          Oh, and he's cute, too.  Tall and athletic, with dark brown hair and blue eyes… a real Roman aristocrat kind of look, but don't take my word for it, just ask some of the lady shades he's helped.

          Of course there are times when he looks just a like a little boy with his hair all tousled and those big eyes staring into your soul like a lost puppy…

          Sigh…

          I just love that lost puppy look…

          But, I'm getting off the track.

          Limbo's not such a bad place, lots of interesting people pass through here, and we have some amazing parties on Friday nights.  But ever since 1988 it's been getting more and more crowded.

          That's when the aliens woke up and started taking over human bodies in order to conquer the Earth.  Very nasty stuff.  They haven't gotten very far all in all, but they certainly have screwed up a lot of people, leaving a lot of unfinished business lying around to get done and creating a housing crisis here in Limbo.

          Yeah, ever since the aliens showed up, you can't do anything or go anywhere in Limbo without running into some shade with a bad case of alien infestation.  And there aren't very many people who can help with that kind of unfinished business!

          There was one couple, though, who were able to get through to Michael…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Detective Michael Burton stretched sluggishly under the covers, wondering what had finally woke him up, the alarm clock blaring Doors music on the nightstand, or the cat, landing on his chest.  So much for sleeping in on his day off…

          Pushing the covers off his face, Michael glowered at the calico while she daintily cleaned a back paw, then stretched out her leg like a prima ballerina and started a more serious attack on her shapely thigh.

          "Just have to have an audience, don't you," he asked, reaching out to give her tail a tug.  The calico stopped mid-lick and glared at the detective, then twisted away and hopped off the bed, stalking out to find someplace else to groom.

          Michael stretched again, and tossed the covers back.  Sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he yawned, then stood and shuffled into the bathroom and a hot shower.

          After several minutes of blissful soaking, life began to pulse through the detective's veins again.  Hastily dressing, Michael headed for the kitchen and the last element necessary to fully drag him from the black hole of day-off-oblivion.  Coffee.

          Second full, steaming cup in hand, he wandered into the living room to hunt down the mate to the sneaker he'd found on top of the pizza box in the refrigerator.  It was on the television, holding the remote control.

          Pulling the shoes on, Michael hummed softly to himself.  Life was definitely looking up.  He reached for the coffee cup, sniffed, then sipped, his eyes falling closed.  Now, a short trip over to Uncle Louie's to pick up that a new stereo, then a call to Mindy, and—

          "You've got to help me.  Please."

          Michael bolted from the couch, sloshing coffee across his hand and half the coffee table.  "Ahhhh!"  He spun.  "Who are you?"

          "Tony, Tony Salvo.  I'm dead— I mean, I'm— I—"

          "You're a shade," Michael stated, reaching for the nearest item – the newspaper littering the far end of the couch – to wipe up the mess.

          "Yeah," the spirit agreed.  "But I need your help."

          Michael studied the latest shade to haunt his life as he soaked up the coffee.  Average looking, about six foot and a hundred and sixty pounds.  Honest face.

          "I was in Limbo."

          "A real fun place," Michael muttered softly.

          "They said you could help me.  The aliens—"

          Michael's head came up.  "Aliens?"

          "Yes, aliens, they—"

          Michael shook his head.  "No.  Uh-huh.  No way!  It's bad enough I see ghosts—"

          "Shades."

          "Whatever!  I am _not_ getting involved with any E.T.'s.  They can find someone else's phone to borrow."

          "But you have to.  They're after my son!"

          Michael's head dropped to his chest and he sighed.  Abandoning the spill, he stood.  "Let me get this straight, aliens – from outer space?"  Tony nodded emphatically.  "Are trying to kidnap your son?"

          "They already got to Nancy and—"

          "Nancy?"

          "My wife," Tony explained.

          "Your wife's an alien?"

          Tony stopped and took a deep breath, then continued slowly, making sure each word was carefully articulated, "No.  Nancy was human.  She was pregnant.  She had a little boy yesterday, Tony Junior, but it really wasn't Nancy, not really.  I mean, the alien was already inside her, but I didn't know that.  When I went to the hospital they got me, the aliens.  They killed me.  And the alien who killed Nancy is dead now—"

          "But its friends want Tony Junior now," a feminine voice finished.

          Michael blinked and looked.  The newcomer was small, no more than five two or three, and maybe a hundred pounds.  She was pretty, and looked younger than he guessed she was.  "Nancy?"

          She nodded.  "The aliens are going to try and take my baby.  You have to stop them."

          The pleading looks the Salvos leveled on him made Burton squirm.  The fleeting images of Mindy, pizza, the new stereo and the couch faded from his mind.  With a shrug and a thin smile, he sighed, "How can I say no?"

          "Thank you," Tony breathed, then hugged Nancy.  "We'd better get going."

          "Going?  Where exactly are these aliens?"

          "San Francisco," Nancy informed him.

          "Aren't there any aliens in L.A.?"

          "Lots," Tony said, heading for the front door, Nancy trailing, "But they're not after Tony Junior."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse rapped on the isolation room's forward observation window, catching Suzanne's attention from behind the second glass wall.  She glanced over her shoulder, then motioned him into the room with a jerk of her chin.

          Pushing the first door open, the colonel stopped long enough to pull on surgical scrubs, gloves and a mask before entering the actual isolation room where Suzanne stood at the small crib, working over the Salvo baby.

          Tiny feet kicked, and small arms flailed.  Given everything the newborn had recently endured, Ironhorse was surprised the baby wasn't in shock, but the loud wailing cries filling the room sounded anything but traumatized.

          "How's it going?" he asked.

          "So far, so good," Suzanne said, as she laid the covering slides on top of the latest blood samples.  "He's hungry."

          Paul grinned behind his mask.  "So I hear."

          "Any news on his relatives?" she asked, leaving the baby in his crib and carrying the slides over to the waiting microscope.

Leaving them for later, Suzanne headed for the bottle of formula waiting in an electric warmer.  A quick check of the temperature LCD and she carried the bottle back to the baby, lifted him into her arms and presented the feast.

          As he watched the infant, a lopsided grin split Ironhorse's face, obvious even under the mask.

          "Paul?" Suzanne questioned, watching the soldier's onyx eyes soften.  "Relatives?"

          "Uh, yeah, Norton worked his usual magic," Ironhorse said, reaching out to tickle the baby's open palm with a calloused fingertip.

          Tiny fingers closed around Paul's and Tony Junior clung to the colonel while continuing his feeding frenzy.

          "He likes you," Suzanne said lightly.  This was a side of the soldier she hadn't considered.  Paul Ironhorse with a baby… it was an interesting image.  She was tempted to ask him if he wanted to hold Tony…  "Maybe we should take him back to the Cottage."

          The finger was hastily removed and Paul's 'professional' mask slipped firmly into place.  "Anthony Salvo's parents are both dead.  There are a couple of cousins, and an aunt – eighty-six.  Not really in a position to take a newborn.  But, Norton was able to locate Nancy's parents.  Bernie and Blanch Campbell.  They live in Orinda.  The Child Services agent and the hospital administrator left to talk to them in person.  You find anything?"

          Suzanne shook her head and cooed at the baby, jiggling him slightly.  "No.  Nothing at all.  I'll check these samples and then run another set in two hours.  If I don't see anything by them, I'm going to assume he's a perfectly healthy, happy, _human_ , baby boy."

          Ironhorse nodded.  "I'll let Harrison know.  He's still working with Norton to correlate the data on the alien growth cycle."  He reached out and caressed the baby's arm.  "Do you need anything else?"

          "No, we're fine."

          With a last look at the baby, the soldier nodded and left.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Can't you hurry?" Tony asked.

          Michael's eyes flickered to the old convertible's speedometer.  It read:  85 mph.

"I am."

          "Hurry more," Tony prompted.

          Michael glanced at the rearview mirror and watched as the man's arm wrapped tighter around Nancy's shoulders.  She buried her face in his shirt and cried softly.  In a moment she faded and Tony was alone in the back seat.

          Tony met his gaze.  "Please?"

          Michael felt his foot press harder on the accelerator and the old Caddy shuddered as it picked up speed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse climbed the last flight of stairs to the seventh floor, the shadow of a smile on his face.  Anthony Salvo Junior was going home.

          After all the infant had endured, he was healthy, happy, and about to start his life.  Nancy Salvo's parents seemed like nice people, and they were grateful that their grandson had survived the 'terrorist' assault on the hospital.  He had been tempted to tell them the truth, but only tempted.  It wouldn't help change the situation, and they'd live in fear the rest of their lives.

          Reaching the seventh floor, he headed for the lab.  It was time for the Blackwood Project to pack up and go home.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Michael Burton parked in the hospital's visitor's lot and sprinted toward the main doors, following the Salvos.  "Hey, wait for me!" he called.

          Half-stumbling into the reception area, he smiled at the startled aid manning the desk and jogged for the elevators.  Pressing the button, he was pleasantly surprised when the doors immediately whisked open.

          Stepping inside, Michael hesitated.  "What floor?"

          "Seven," Nancy said, squeezing Tony's hand.  "What if we're too late?"

          "Come on, come on," Tony chanted, staring at the doors as they slowly slid shut.  "They have him… the aliens have Tony Junior."

          "Calm down," Michael warned.  "Tony!"

          Salvo faded.

          "Tony!" Nancy yelled, fading slightly herself.

          "Nancy," Michael said, stepping closer to the young women.  "Just stay calm, he's getting too stressed out.  He had to go back to Limbo to recharge, but I need you here.  I don't know who to talk to or where to go.  If we're going to help your baby, you've got to stay here and help me."

          She took a deep breath and nodded.  Burton waited, watching the translucence fill in.  "That's it," he said reassuringly.  "Good."

          The bell chimed and the doors opened.  Nancy's eyes widened as she watched Ironhorse stride by and disappear into a room.

          "Oh, no," she moaned.  "We're too late."

"Who was that, an alien?" Burton asked, stepping out of the elevator and around an orderly as he pushed a cart full of empty breakfast trays into the lift.

          "Say what?" the employee questioned.

          "Uh, nothing, sorry," Michael covered with a smile.

          The orderly shook his head, but his reply was cut off by the elevator door sliding shut.

          "That's the man.  He knows where my baby is!  He has to get my baby back!"

          Faster than an eye blink, Nancy Salvo disappeared.  "Nancy!" Michael called, reaching out in a futile effort to catch her arm.  "Damn," he breathed, bolting after the man.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The three Blackwood Project members watched while the Campbells loaded the baby into their car, and climbed in.  Paul caught the pounding feet seconds before the lab door burst open, admitting a tall, youngish man.

          The M9 was in the soldier's hands before the two Omegans entered behind the man, their weapons also ready.

          "You have to get the Salvo baby back – now.  Aliens have him," the stranger said, his hands slowly coming up away from his body.  "Please.  Hurry."

          A collective heartbeat passed, then Ironhorse grabbed for the radio clipped to his belt.  "Red Three, this is Red Leader, where's the baby?"

          "Just left, Colonel," was the reply.

          "Stop that car.  The grandparents might be aliens."

          "Yes, sir!"

          The colonel returned the radio to his belt, the weapon remaining trained on Burton.  "Keep your hands up," he instructed.

          Michael did so, watching while a pretty woman directed what he thought was a Geiger counter in his direction.  "My name's Michael Burton.  I'm a cop.  I have my badge—"

          "Don't move," Ironhorse cautioned.

          "Okay," Michael reassured.  "I'm _not_ moving."

          "How did you know about the aliens?" Harrison asked.

          "He's clean, but I want to run a blood sample to be sure," Suzanne said.

          "Blood?" Michael squeaked.  The woman smiled.

          "It won't hurt… much," she said.

          "Great."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The blended alien stopped at the red light at the hospital's parking lot entrance onto the street.  The driver turned to his companion, but before he could speak he was startled when the driver's side door was yanked open.  Soldiers.

          "We have failed!" he yelled.

"To dor nakatey!" the alien in the female host cried, her fist coming up to trigger the small charge attached to her chest.  Green goo exploded across the car seat and window.

          "To dor nakatey!" he echoed, destroying himself.

          In the back seat Anthony Salvo Junior wailed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Michael yelped as Suzanne stabbed his fingertip, but the sudden appearance of the Salvos kept him from harassing her.

          "They did it," Tony said somewhat sadly.  "They got Tony Junior."

          Nancy smiled at Michael.  "Thank you.  Thank you for saving my baby."

          Michael smiled, his eyes misting.  He nodded, watching as the couple embraced.  A ray of intensely pure white light enveloped them and he squinted slightly.  When it blinked out, they were gone.

          "You're welcome," he said softly.

          Suzanne looked up and smiled.  "Sorry.  Thank you," she said, then turned to the others.  "He's clean."

          "I'll take that identification now," Ironhrose said, and waited until Michael handed over his shield and ID.

          "Detective Burton," Ironhorse said, motioning Michael to a chair.  He handed the badge to one of the soldiers who'd followed Michael into the room.  "Run a verification," he told the soldier, then turned back to Burton.  "Now, Detective, if you'd tell us how you knew about the aliens?"

          Michael took a deep breath.  "Okay, this might be a little hard to accept…"  he trailed off.  "Then again, maybe it won't."

          "The aliens?" Harrison prompted.

          "Okay, about a year ago I died."  Noting the skeptical looks he added hastily, "But I came back.  And ever since I've been able to…"  He trailed off, wondering if it was a good idea to explain his situation.

          Harrison leaned closer.  "Yes?"

          He really didn't have a choice.  It was obvious these people meant business, and the whole thing must be hush-hush.  "See ghosts," Michael finished quickly.

          "You.  See.  Ghosts."

          Harrison grinned across at Ironhorse.  "Careful, Colonel, I remember a man who said he didn't believe in ghosts… or aliens from another planet…"

          The colonel snorted and turned an intense obsidian gaze on Michael.  "And _ghosts_ told you about the aliens?"

          Michael nodded.  "Shades, actually.  An Anthony and Nancy Salvo.  They said the aliens were trying to kidnap their son, Tony Junior, and asked me to help."

          The three Project members sat up straighter and leaned back slightly.  Suzanne folded her arms over her chest.  "That's not possible… is it?"  She paused, then corrected.  "Why not?"

"Look," Michael said, "I didn't want to believe it when it first started happening, but… it does.  Shades, ghosts who are in Limbo, come to me and ask me to help them complete their unfinished business here on earth.  When it's done they go on."

          "Where?" Harrison asked.

          Michael shrugged.  "I don't know, exactly.  Heaven, Nirvana…"  He glanced at Ironhorse.  "…the Happy Hunting Ground?"

          The colonel scowled, but remained silent.

          "When did the Salvos contact you?" Harrison asked.

          "This morning, and believe me, I thought they were crazy.  Aliens?  But I did know they were scared, and that they believed it.  We drove straight through—"  He stopped, glancing briefly to where the Salvos had last stood.  He smiled thinly.  "The baby's safe.  Tony and Nancy already left."

          The radio on the colonel's belt clicked and he pulled it free.  "Ironhorse."

          "Colonel, we have the baby.  You were right, sir.  The couple were boogies."

          "Roger, Red Three.  Bring the baby back to the hospital."

          "Roger.  ETA's about ten minutes.  Red Three out."

          The threesome studied Michael.  He smiled half-heartedly.  "See?  Nancy said the baby was safe."

          "Have any other… shades told you about the aliens?" Harrison asked.

          Michael shook his head.  "No.  And, like I said, I didn't believe them."  He swallowed hard.  "But it's true, isn't it."

          Harrison and Ironhorse exchanged glances.  "Colonel, if what he says is true, and we certainly don't have a reason not to believe him at this point, then he could be a valuable resource."

          "Harrison…" Ironhorse half-growled.

          "Think about it, Paul.  What if another…  What did you call them?"

          "Shades?"

          "What if another shade contacts detective Burton for help with the aliens?  Wouldn't it be better if he could contact us?  Wouldn't it be negligent on our part _not_ to use _all_ the resources at our disposal to stop them?"

          The colonel sighed, but nodded.

          Harrison clapped his hands.  "Yes.  I knew you'd understand."  He turned back to Michael.  "Let's go get some coffee, Detective, we've got quite a bit to tell you.  And I want to hear more about these… shades."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          So, that was it.  Not a bad day's work.  Michael was his usual, wonderful self, resolving the Salvo's unfinished business and sending them on a second honeymoon, a cruise past Nirvana and ending up in Heaven.  What a guy…

          The Blackwood Project filled Michael in on the alien invasion, and Michael told them about Limbo and the shades.  I don't think they really believed him, except maybe Harrison.

I can understand that, I mean, dead people who hang out somewhere between life and afterlife waiting for someone to help them with their unfinished business?  It does sound a little weird.  But, it's true.  As true as aliens invading Earth…

          Oh, and I think Michael has a little crush on Suzanne, too.  She's a nice looking lady.  Of course this wasn't the only time Michael worked with the Blackwood Project.  There were two more times…

Followed by Red Red Rose.


End file.
